Quiet Moments
by pink-saber-girl
Summary: A two part installment featuring Dorme and baby Leia, along with Obi Wan and baby Luke. The childrens' mentors spend a few moments reflecting on the past.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Quiet Moments

Main Characters: Dorme and baby Leia

Summary: Dorme spends a few moments reflecting with baby Leia.

Notes: This has the possibility to spin into a series of one shots, not quite sure yet though.

Thanks to: The Baby Think It Over program for making me taking the 'Leia' (my baby simulator) home for the weekend thus giving me inspiration, and kotorchick for being an awesome beta. As always, George Lucas is the one who can use one hundred dollar bills for paper towels, not I.

Quiet Moments

I look down into her young face. It has the same defiant features that I know came from both mother and father. Her dark brown eyes seem to gleam with a fire from within, and her hair is dark and soft, curling in ringlets around her face. Her posture is tense, and I can tell tonight there won't be any caving in from her. At least, she won't be this early in the game

Upon looking at her, you would think she is merely a baby, the infant daughter of Bail Organa, King of Alderaan. And indeed, according to all public records, she is. But that isn't the whole story. I am one of the few who know the truth: in this baby's hands and in those of her twin brother lie the fate of the entire galaxy. She already has perfected the first art of a leader: she can definitely make her voice heard to all. Who knew little lungs could hold so much air?

She lets forth another ear piercing set of screams, quickly letting me know that she will not be happy with just simply being rocked. No, she's hungry, and so I get the bottle out and place it to her lips. She accepts it greedily, and begins sucking quite happily. Her small hand curl around the bottle tightly with a strength unusual to most her age. She looks up at me with eyes that seem to say, 'thank you,' though if her parentage is any indication it's more likely to be an, 'about time!'

Her parents: Anakin and Padme; The Hero With No Fear and the Outspoken Senator of Naboo. No one would have thought it possible. After all, he was a Jedi. They were not to know love. Yet I was Padme's trusted confidante, and again one of the few who knew the entire story. One of the few who ever will.

It saddens me greatly to think of milady. She was so kind, so strong, always very brave, but worry was never far from her doorstep. As Queen Amidala, it was the survival of her people. As a new Senator, it was the peace effort. And during the war, it was of everything. Was Anakin alive? Would the Senate survive? Would the war ever end?

Her heart hung heavy with the burden of these things, and I wished I could take it all from her. She would sometimes get sick from the stress of it all, taking to her bed for one day, for that's all the time she would allow herself, no matter what I said. In fact, that's what we thought the morning sickness was. Another time when her body demanded a break from the overbearing load she put on it.

This wasn't like the other spells though. This didn't end after a day in bed, or a drink of herbal tea. It persisted, till finally she had no choice. She had to see a doctor. The ride there was tense. She kept twisting a handkerchief, the one that Anakin had brought her from the Outer Rim a few weeks ago. It had been the first time she had seen him in four months, and their parting held more pain than any before it. She would never admit to it, not even to me, but I knew it to be so. She couldn't hide her love and longing for this Jedi, just as the doctor couldn't deny the truth of her condition, though she made him recheck the data at least seven times. Padme, Senator of Naboo, former Queen, wife of a Jedi knight, was going to have a baby.

She wore on her face a look of joy and fear, equally mixed. This, of course, would end the game of secrecy. A marriage you could hide, tough as it was to do so. A child though? This changed everything. Of course, she had always told me that someday she would like to have children, but not now, not in the middle of the Clone Wars. But then again, the Force (which I then still had some skepticism over) rarely asks us when would be our ideal timing.

Five months later, Anakin came home, and I had never seen him so happy. From there though, the memory's run together like water. Hearing Padme try to soothe him after a night of bad dreams, Obi Wan coming for that fateful visit, Palpatine becoming Emperor, then Mustafar. Her body passing by me, lifeless and quiet on its way to the final destination, and finally volunteering to be the princess' nursemaid, so as to watch over her. I choose not to revisit these, now or ever. They are too painful, too strong to be contained, and I fear what would happen if they were released. I must focus on my charge, this tiny princess now, who seems to be through feeding.

I rock her in my arms, attempting to lull her to sleep. Alderaan's cool night winds blow in and tickle her face. She coos, and a smile graces her angelic features. It reminds me of her mother's smile. Innocent and genuine. I would give anything to have Padme see this sight. She is the one who should be here holding her daughter, not I.

Milady's thoughts after the discovery were constantly of her unborn child. Would they have her love of politics, her stubborn nature, her brown eyes and hair? Or would they be like Anakin? A roguish grin constantly adoring their faces, strong, so full of passion for everything they did. She vowed that she wouldn't miss a thing in their life.

Now, though, she is gone, and I am left to witness these simple moments, moments that Anakin stole not only from her, but from himself. For now he is Darth Vader, more machine than man, the Emperor's assistant that goes terrorizing the galaxy. I live each day in fear that he will discover the truth: that Leia is his. I won't let him have her. She and her brother are our only hope. We have to protect them at all costs.

"Dorme, is she asleep yet?" I hear the Queen's voice from the door, but I don't turn to look. I don't dare move a muscle and disturb the tiny baby's content state.

"Not yet, your Majesty, but I have a feeling it won't be long now. She's putting up quite a fight though," I whisper back to her.

"That doesn't shock me," and I can almost hear the smile in her voice. The door shuts with hardly a sound, and I return my attention to Leia.

Her eyelids begin to close ever so gently now. I can tell she's fighting sleep hard, but sleep in the end is winning out. It's at times like these that I like to imagine her future. I know she will play a major part in it, but how? Will she be like her father was? A warrior, fighting for what was right? Or will she be like her mother, holding her own in the political arena, making the voice of democracy heard everywhere?

Allowing myself to relax a little, I lean my head back and sigh. Who knew that my life would turn out this way? I had always imagined surviving milady for the rest of my days, and I happily excepted it, for it brought me much joy. I would have gladly given my life for hers at any given time, such was my devotion. But part of me knows that I am still protecting her by guarding her daughter, for Leia is so much like her, yet so much like her father as well, a perfectly blended mix of the two.

I begin to slow in my rocking, and eventually come to a stop. Her eyes fly open again, and I return to the gentle swaying motion. Those deep brown orbs never leave mine, and for some unexplainable reason, I begin to tell her a story. One I know that she will not remember, but one that she will come to hear again someday.

"A long time ago, in a galaxy much like this, there lived a slave boy and a child queen. Their fates, however far apart it may seem, were bound together, and this is how . . . "

And as I weave my tale of the past now erased, the future gently falls asleep in my arms, and I allow myself to enjoy this rare quiet moment.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, little fellow, I guess this is our last night together," I tell him, though I know he doesn't understand me. This tiny infant, who unknowingly holds so much power, who has so much riding on him. The first born into an age of turmoil, and the only one who can stop it.

Luke Skywalker looks up at me and simply stares. I am amazed at this baby, though I must admit I'm not one who has much experience with children. I merely know this; he is the only hope left to save us all. You couldn't tell by looking at him. He will grow up as a simple moisture farmer until the Force wills. Whether that day comes quickly or is far down the road, I cannot tell. Yet I know that one day, he will have to face him. He will have to face the man that was his father, the man who is now Lord Vader.

I pick him up and study his features. The twin sun's few remaining rays brush against his face, and his eyes squint to shut them out. He is quiet and timid, and force knows where he gets that from. His blond hair and blue eyes are clearly Anakin's, and his smile is his mother's. He possess a grip unusual for any other child of his age, yet not unusual for the son of the once most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. The force is strong with him already.

It was strong with Anakin as well, yet it wasn't enough to save him from the Sith's evil grasp. My teaching wasn't enough to save him. Will I be able to save this boy from the Dark Side? I have failed once, and in that failure I have destroyed a galaxy. This is my only way to correct it. I shouldn't have taken Anakin on as my apprentice; I can see that now. The Council was right; he was too old. Yet I was young, foolish, and thought I could teach his as well as Master Yoda, and possibly even as well my master. I was wrong, and I am paying for that mistake. Qui-Gon, who had so much faith that he was the Chosen One, that this humble slave boy would save us from the Sith. He was supposed to defeat them, not join them! Why couldn't I prevent him from what he did? Why wasn't I strong enough?

Luke begins to whimper, and I begin to walk throughout the ship with him. He looks up at the controls, studying everything with was appears to be interest. His tiny fingers reach out to touch the controls, as if in his infancy he already knows how to fly a ship. Though, judging from his lineage, it's altogether possible. I don't doubt that he will live true to his name, and become a pilot almost as good as his father was, and most likely just as reckless as well.

The memories of my fallen brother come on strong again, and I finally succumb to them, letting them wash over me like the waters of Naboo's lakes. I sit back down in the captain's chair, staring at the setting of the Binary Suns. In a way it represents the rise and fall of the man who was Anakin Skywalker.

When I first met him, I passed him off as another pathetic life form my master had decided to tote along for the ride. I couldn't understand his connection with these things. Yet Anakin's midiclorian rate was off the charts, higher than Master Yoda's even. That had never happened in the history of the Jedi. It made this, well, slave boy, the most powerful being in the galaxy. He could be the one that was to save us from the Sith. But unknowingly, my master had just taken the first step in destroying everything we had ever fought for.

When Qui-Gon died, I promised to take him on as my padawan. I didn't think I was ready, but I had sworn to him I would. I made it my mission to be as good a master as Qui-Gon had been to me. If this boy was indeed the child of prophecy, then it only intensified the need for his training to be flawless. So I held him to the strictness of standards, reminding him every step along the way of the fate he was destined to fulfill, watching him grow each day more powerful.

I also remember what I mistook for a childish crush, his love for Padme. Surely he realized that if he was Jedi, he couldn't be with her. I lectured him on it over and over, and I might as well have been talking to a durasteel wall. At the time though, it didn't seem to be of much consequence. It' sadly ironic, how the thing that I simply underestimated brought the galaxy to its knees.

Luke begins to cry softly, and I begin to gently rock him in my arms. He sighs contentedly, and shuts his eyes. So much innocence, I can't help but envy him. He has no knowledge of the problems of the galaxy, of its injustices, or of the saddest story that has ever been told and how it binds he and I together. For now he is merely happy in my arms, his breathing coming in steady paces, his happy nature reminding me of Padme.

He will never know his mother, and for that I hate Darth Vader all the more. A Jedi should not know these things, but then again, Yoda and I are all that remain of the Order. No one to tell of the great deeds, of the countless that died trying to save the Republic. The Empire will rewrite history, saying that we were the betrayers, the ones who should be hated, the cause of the war, and there will be no one to proclaim the great works of Senator Amidala as well.

Padme didn't believe in the war, just as I didn't. Yet we were both drawn into it, regardless of our personal outlook. She was a kind soul, strong and determined, never failing to see the good in people. My friendship with her never lead me to suspect what she was hiding. That she and my best friend, my padawan, were lying to my face, keeping their marriage a secret from all. I don't hold it against her though. Most in my situation would probably would, yet I know she did what she thought was right. She loved Anakin for who he was, and she tried to save him. I only wish she had succeeded.

Her memory in my mind won't and will never been of the broken spirit that she was in her last moments. I wish I could forget that, go back and erase the haunting memory from my mind. No, she won't be that way in my mind's eye. She will forever be of the Queen who saved a planet, the fighter on Geonosis, the Senator who stood up for her beliefs against all odds and persecution, and of the woman who was my friend.

Her last words were of him, how there was still good in him. I don't believe her, though. I wish I could, but I won't allow myself to. How could something that killed Younglings, betrayed the Jedi, and killed his wife, still posses good? Nothing seems to harbor any essence of light now, for the brightest light was snuffed out before her time. She and Anakin were supposed to be here, holding this child and his sister, not I! He slaughtered not only those in the Temple, but he destroyed his own future as well. No, good can't be held in such a body as is his now.

Luke coos in my arms, and I bring myself back to the present. It's a shame that this is planet that he will call home, forsaken of almost everything except sand. He could have been trained in the Jedi temple, raised to be a defender of the Republic in a time of peace. This isn't the will of the Force however, and though I don't understand it now, I have faith that one day I will. I will be here with him till then, protecting him until the time is right. When the time comes when he will take up his father's lightsaber and set the galaxy to right again.

His future will not be an easy one. Upon his shoulders will be the restoration of the Order, the training of a new line of Jedi, and the defense of a new Republic. Already a Rebel Alliance has begun to form; their goal: to resurrect the Republic and democracy. Without a doubt his sister will be crucial to this as well.

Will I live to see the day? Only the Force knows. For now though, I am here, and I will protect him from whatever may happen. I will become the guardian of the fate of the Galaxy again, yet this time, I will not fail. But for now, I sit and hold the survival of hope in my arms, and enjoy what very well may be my last quiet moment with Luke Skywalker, son of the Hero With No Fear.


End file.
